I’ve never been one to make New Year’s resolutions. The ones I would make, I do make every day. “I’ll start the diet tomorrow…I really have to stop yelling so much around the kids…I need to turn off the computer and spend more time building block towers…“

And none of them are easy.

But the eve of the new year always makes me a little introspective, as any ending-beginning does. So I find myself thinking about the kind of life I want to have and the kind of person I want to be.

When my daughter was born, it was the end of only worrying about little boys and their wants and needs. And it was the beginning of my tenure as a role model for what a woman should be.

In fact, the day we found out that one of our twins would be a girl, I told my husband, “well, you’ll never hear me complaining about being fat anymore.” When he asked what that had to do with anything, I explained that I intended for my daughter to grow up in a house where women spent more time developing healthy eating and exercise habits than bemoaning the unfortunate body type that a cruel fate had given them. While I couldn’t shield my daughter from the inevitable insecurities and poor body image issues so integral to the experience of a teenage girl, I could at the very least do away with that attitude at home.

I said that I wanted her to be too busy being and doing and achieving things to worry about the circumference of her 15 year old thighs.

Then a light of recognition flared in my husbands now glassy eyed expression and he said, “oh yeah – I totally agree. We’ll get her involved in sports as early as possible.“

Now that Eleanor is three, we can start thinking about what sports she might enjoy, but I’d like to think that my endeavors to refrain from the fat talk have contributed to the groundwork for her positive future self image.

And really, as they’ve gotten older, I’ve made many changes in my own life in an effort to be exemplify the qualities that I’d like my children to have.

A pretty major one has been my concerted effort to stop taking myself too seriously. It’s a trait that runs deep in my family, this tendency to grow a stick up our posterior every time we are the butt (pun totally intended) of a joke or are made to feel ridiculous in any way. In general, I have a very good sense of humor and can even laugh about embarrassments from the past. But in the heat of the cheek flaming moment, I do tend to bristle. I don’t like to feel silly.

This is a struggle. But when I see my very intense three year old son rigid with fury, I double my efforts. I want my kids to be more light-hearted than I was. Where I’m just learning to get over myself already, I want them to do that as a matter of course.

And like all parents, we make the daily attempt to not use bad language, to show good manners and to be kind to others.

We do pretty well with the swear words, though we’re far from perfect. Last week when I started to explain who “the baby Jesus” was, my four year old proudly exclaimed, “Jesus Christ!” Like, “oh yeah. I know that guy…you always talk about him when you’re pissed off at us…” Awesome.

It was surprisingly easy to institute please and thank you, but manners and consideration will always be difficult concepts for little guys. With three kids who have only just barely shed their toddler status, our house is a place where “excuse me” means “get out of my way” and “share” means “gimmie that!“

So I think I’m in a constant state of resolving to be better. And I don’t think I need a new calendar year as motivation.

But.

I do look back in the process of looking forward, and I do think about what I’d like to change. While we make choices every day, it’s nice to have a benchmark – an official day to take stock.

When I think about who I want to be in 2010, I think about some of the choices I’ve made. The ones think I’ve made well and the ones I’d like to rethink. And of course, the new ones that come with age and experience.

Now that I’m a mother, so many of my choices are influenced by my children. I want to be a better person for them. I want to be comfortable and confident in my own skin. I want to have a good sense of humor – even when it is at my own expense. And I want to put kindness and manners before principles and justice. I think that all of this will benefit them as they watch me navigate a life that will be their future.

And deciding who it is that I want to be comes down to these choices.

So when my children pull all of the sheets out of the linen closet making a huge mess for me to clean up, I’ll choose to let the anger go let them play “ghosts.” When I feel bad about the way I look, I’ll choose to get over it and take everyone to the park. And when I feel like tossing a defiant three year old into their room for the rest of the century, I’ll choose to admire their forays into learning to make their own choices.

I’ll always choose to appreciate each day I spend with them.

These are my choices to make. And I will choose well.

I choose happiness. I choose joy and laughter. I choose forgiveness and gratitude. I choose kindness and understanding. I choose love.

And I choose myself.

I will prioritize my life and how I live it. Because by choosing to be a better me, I’m choosing them – my children. And doing my best for them is the most important choice I’ll ever have to make.